


Midnight Equinox

by fictionandcoffee



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yagami Light Is Not Kira (Death Note), Basically Light gets a second chance, But L still suspects Light after awhile, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual L/Yagami Light, Fluff and Angst, Fun times at an orphanage, Kira investigation and chill, L is very smitten with Light, Let's see if he messes it up, M/M, Mikami is Kira, Sayu ships L and Light, Soichiro plays an interesting role in this, after awhile, lawlight, thanks to L
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionandcoffee/pseuds/fictionandcoffee
Summary: ❛ I do love thee; and when I lovethee not, Chaos is come again. ❜Upon writing in the Death Note, one is sentenced to an afterlife devoid of Heaven or Hell when their time eventually comes. But loopholes, of course, exist for a reason; fine print so fine that even Ryuk was unaware of it. A victim, for example, may attempt to persuade the Shinigami King into giving their murderer a second chance to redeem themselves in another reality. But such an occurrence is so rare, it is an unknown rule of the Death Note. After all, what could possibly motivate a victim to defend their villain?But every once in a millennium, it may occur. And when it does, it's always wildly entertaining for those within the Shinigami realm. After all, what is a more efficient form of punishment than taking the blinding brilliance of Light Yagami and providing him the opportunity to atone for his sins in a new world, only to have to endure the retribution even after redemption?
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 17
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i really just wanted to give light a second chance 
> 
> and apparently so did l ??? hm
> 
> let's see how it goes for them

It was during a cloudy sunset in Tokyo when Teru Mikami picked up the Death Note for the first time.

It had been an utterly ordinary day. As ever, his day had passed in an eventless cycle. Mikami had always found comfort into the uneventful. It provided him a sense of control that sudden upheaval never could. In fact, he'd resented change from a young age, unless it was the sort of change that offered him even more control over his life. Then, he would reconsider. Learn how to adapt. Fall into another meaningless cycle.

Clearly, this made him both the best and the worst person to gain possession of such a dangerous notebook.

There were reports of sixty-two incarcerated criminals suffering from fatal heart attacks by sunrise.

And so it began.

. . .

"I have to say," L began, though of course, he did not have to continue with this erratic train of thought and inevitably disappoint Watari. But it was a simple day, much too simple, and a distraction was necessary at this point.

"Do you?" Watari muttered.

L's lips quirked very slightly, but other than that, he made no move to acknowledge he'd picked up on the exasperation of the older man. "It seems pointless that you've allowed that one girl to board at Wammy's. I have already received no less than five attempts of Matt and Mello hacking into my system as a way to complain about her."

Watari remained unreadable. It was a bit unsettling. Whether he was annoyed, disappointed, happy, or furious, his face remained the same neutral, blank canvas. L supposed he'd inherited that trait. "I believe we've discussed this before, L."

"Yes, but I am startlingly persistent. It is one of my most admirable qualities."

Something in Watari's eyes made L wonder if that was an arguable opinion. How rude. "Her brother refused to leave their former orphanage without her. They are not used to being separated, and I presume he is very protective over her and would interpret leaving her as abandonment."

Yet another topic that the students were furious about. "Isn't the boy a bit . . . old?" L inquired, unable to keep the disdain out of his tone. He'd never met the boy or his younger sister, but he wasn't entirely open-minded. "He's seventeen already. The other seventeen-year-olds have been at Wammy's for a minimum of eight years."

"Roger believes this one is special, and therefore, an exception."

"They're all special. That's the point. If we start making exceptions now--" L cut off, noticing the intent way Watari was staring at him. As mentioned, the man was not known for random outbursts of emotion, but disapproval still managed to burn through like a forest fire. L cleared his throat. Best try a different tactic. A more mature approach.

"Do I really have to meet him?" L whined, sounding more like a thirteen-year-old than any of the thirteen-year-olds who had pestered him for the past month.

Watari stared.

L sighed dramatically, plucking one of the countless sugar cubes and dropping it into his mug of black tea. English Breakfast. Watari was so predictable. "It simply seems like a waste of time. I have been considering Near or Mello for the role of my successor for years already." Another pluck, another drop. "While each have fundamental flaws and choosing either is a troubling risk, I highly doubt this boy is different." Five plucks. Five increasingly sloppy drops. "While I'm hardly the world's best advocate for fairness--"

"L."

There was something in that tone which should have encouraged L to considerably rethink his following actions.

Unfortunately, it was massively ineffective.

"Watari," L said, mimicking the same tone. If anyone else had attempted such defiance towards the orphanage's owner, L knew, they would find themselves in regrettable trouble. But he liked to think that he and Watari were mature enough to avoid such painful circumstances.

As ever, the older man's mood remained unreadable. "You never cease to amaze me."

L beamed. Joy was unsettling on his ghostly features, especially when aforementioned joy was mildly conflicted. After all, it was difficult to determine when Watari was being sarcastic or not. "Your kindness is immensely appreciated." A pause. A forlorn glance towards the empty platter before him. "I require cake."

Watari hesitated. For one terrifying moment, L was forced to consider the horrors if Watari refused, but thankfully, he gave a short nod. However, as he turned away, L could've sworn he heard an ominous mutter of, "I require patience."

Ah. Sarcasm was a small price to pay for sweets, he supposed.

Even when it was Watari's sarcasm, which often inflicted the fear of god upon targets and innocent bystanders alike.

It didn't change his perspective, either. How brilliant or remarkable this latest, unprecedented addition to Wammy's House would not impress L. That much, he knew for a fact.

As the platter of vanilla cake, complete with a strawberry atop the cream cheese frosting, was deposited upon his desk, Watari cleared his throat. "We leave for the orphanage tomorrow at sunrise. I would, of course, recommend retiring early so you could get an early start, but inevitably, you will simply stay awake for the entirety of the evening."

"You know me so well," L said through a mouthful. Watari no longer grimaced over his poor manners, apparently resigning himself to this socially challenged lump of a detective he had opted to look after. L swallowed. "In the morning, then."

Socially challenged or not, lump or not, L was quite certain that his opinion would remain the same, thank you very much. Near and Mello were exceptional . . . despite being greatly hindered by their own flaws. They would grow. Evolve. He had witnessed them do so over the course of several years already.

He couldn't say the same about some strange seventeen-year-old boy with a troubling attachment to his younger sister.

. . .

Yagami Sayu eyed the intricate black puzzle pieces in the palm of her hand. She didn't quite understand the allure in piecing together a puzzle that only focused on the difference between matte black and shiny black. But this was far from the first time she had failed to comprehend something at Wammy's House.

She didn't delude herself into believing she was here on account of her stunning intellect. She knew it was her older brother who interested Roger. As soon as Light, already seventeen, became legal, she wouldn't be surprised if they dropkicked her out the exit.

Vaguely, she wondered if she would be able to keep in touch with Near.

Not that his name was really Near. Apparently everyone had a secret alias at Wammy's House. Near, Mello, Matt, none of these were their actual names. The only notable exceptions were herself and Light. Roger had tried, but Light silenced him with that blank, deadpanned stare that often had small children and elderly women scurrying to the other side of the road. Roger hadn't mentioned the subject since then.

"Corner." Near's monotone voice rang out in the silence of the vacant classroom. Startled, Sayu squinted down at the cluster of black pieces in her palm, before hesitantly offering Near what resembled a corner piece. With a nod, Near accepted it, placing it in its desired location.

"Who gave you this . . . pazuru, anyway?" asked Sayu. It was strange, not speaking in Japanese. She was fairly educated in English, but old habits often had her struggling for random words and substituting terms from her native tongue.

Fortunately, Near must have gone through a fascination with languages, because he always understood her perfectly. "A man."

Sayu blinked. "Okay. Neat. Um . . . which man, though? Was it Roger?"

Near shook his head. "No." His voice was dangerously bleak, but it no longer concerned Sayu. She was used to it by now. "A frequent visitor of ours. You should be permitted to meet him soon."

"Be permitted?" She raised an eyebrow. "Sounds . . . fancy."

Subtly, the corners of Near's lips quirked. He opened his palm, making an impatient noise. "Middle. Matte."

Almost all of the pieces in her hands fitted that description. With a grimace, she offered Near a random one. He stared at the piece as if it had done something to deeply offend him, before offering another small nod. With seemingly no effort, he found the proper place for it. Sayu watched him with a sigh. The natural intelligence, how everyone immediately knew the right answer; it unsettled her. A part of her couldn't wait to get thrown out.

"Why don't you get along with Mello?" For such a soft-spoken child, Sayu had always been naturally (and vocally) inquisitive. It seemed to unsettle Light. Until they came here. "You're both so brilliant. Is it really because of that whole successor business?" 

Near tensed. He stared forlornly at his incomplete puzzle, as if it held all the answers in the world. "Mello is not particularly fond of me." As if that settled matters, Near reached out, plucking another tiny puzzle piece away without bothering to ask for it this time.

"Yes," Sayu said, growing impatient, "I noticed. But why is that?"

"I am prone to scoring significantly higher than Mello on all exams. This is troubling to him, as exams are an integral part in the process of choosing who will succeed L. However, Mello should not be too concerned. There are plenty of other important contributing factors he is dismissing. A willingness to act, for example, rather than linger in an indefinite stalemate."

Sayu had heard whispers about L before, but as she was such an outsider, no one bothered to provide any helpful information. She knew he was an internationally renowned detective, as Light had looked up to him when he was younger, but she didn't completely understand what all of these orphan children had to do with him. Backup in case he died on the job?

That sounded cruel for everyone involved. Including L.

Near's answer had struck a nerve. Sayu pressed her lips into a hard line. "What about Light?"

Slowly, Near peered up at her through a thick curtain of dark eyelashes. He watched her, unblinking with his perpetually wide eyes, but did not respond.

She felt the need to clarify herself. "Light has scored higher on exams than anyone else just since we've been here. Even before we were taken in, he was the top-scoring student at every school he attended. To-Oh material." She sounded like a proud parent. How embarrassing. She cleared her throat. "Doesn't that mean he'll be considered for L's role, as well?"

Near never really smiled, never displayed the slightest flicker of emotion, but he appeared to retreat into himself more so than usual after her little speech. "No," he said tightly. "The competition is between myself and Mello. L would never allow an outsider to disrupt that."

Sayu flinched at the term outsider. If that applied to Light, brilliant-minded and charmingly gifted Light Yagami, she could only imagine what the other students were whispering about her. For the first time, she wondered if Near may share their views.

Gently, she placed her handful of mismatched pieces on the floor. She felt Near watching her, it was impossible not to feel a gaze intent on penetrating her innermost soul, but she did her best not to let it bother her. She rose to her feet, suddenly towering over the small boy with his perpetual pallor. "It's nearly dinner. I'm going to find Light."

Near watched her a moment longer, calculating, before giving a curt nod. Without another word, his full attention returned to his puzzle.

Finding Light was hardly a difficult task. He had practically taken up residency in the library, and to little surprise, he was there now. Sayu hesitated, half-hidden behind one of the towering oak bookcases. Light was curled up in one of the oversized burgundy chairs by the window, where rain splattered against the glass pane. His only light was small and dim, offering a meek golden hue, but he didn't seem to mind. He drew his lower lip between his teeth, flipping another page in the ancient-looking English book. The book's spine gave a quiet protest, and he adjusted his hold on it.

She wished she could be as unaffected by things as her brother. Of course, Light hadn't always been that way, but anything lacking his stoic demeanor was so long ago that she could no longer recall.

"Are you going to hover there all day?" His voice rang out in the otherwise silent library, echoing slightly down the rows upon rows of prestigious books.

Sayu startled, clumsily knocking her elbow against the bookcase and letting out a displeased yelp. Light's lips edged into a half-smile, and he looked up at her over his book. "Nice."

She glowered at him. Despite her irritation, it was a relief to hear someone speak Japanese so naturally. She knew enough English, and she did not mind their change of surroundings too terribly, but it was impossible to avoid homesickness forever. She wandered over to her brother, her hands linked behind her back. "Light?"

He gave a halfhearted hum, sharp eyes already flicking across the pages once more.

"What do you know about L?"

That caught his attention.

Light blinked, tilting his head. "Do you mean in general, or how he relates to our . . . peers?" He spoke the word with distaste, as if he was repulsed by the idea of associating with these children, regardless of how bright they may be. He'd always been quite reclusive.

"Not in general. I know he's the most famous detective in the world. The only other detectives who come close to L are Deneuve and Coil." Cleary she had done her research. "And even they could never surpass him, everyone knows that. I know he only helps out on complicated cases, ones that seem to really fascinate him. And I know you idolized him as a child."

Light bristled. "That is not--"

"So what I'm asking," Sayu interrupted, raising her voice, "is how he relates to the orphanage. Everyone else here seems aware, but I'm not. It's unsettling. Is it some enormous secret?"

He turned the corner of the antique book, efficiently saving his place before setting it down in his lap. Vaguely, Sayu wondered if he could get into trouble for damaging the page. Then again, who would possibly notice? "It isn't a secret, from what I can tell. Just something so widely known here that people don't see the need to clarify the situation. As you probably know, several students are competing for L's detective title. He's supposed to choose one before the class graduates."

Sayu stared blankly. She hadn't sought him out for information she already knew.

Light seemed to sense her annoyance, because his lips quirked. "It seems unusual, doesn't it? Choosing an orphanage, especially one so secretive, to find your prospective successor. Just as unusual as it is that all of these children are so naturally intelligent. They were obviously recruited, but the question is -- why?"

He had a tendency of drawing things out. It never ceased to frustrate Sayu. "That's what I'm asking you."

Humming softly, Light tapped his forefinger across the hard cover of his book. "I believe that L has a special connection to this orphanage. In fact, I believe that he may have resided here at some point himself. It's the likeliest scenario. Which means that his insistence upon choosing a successor from Wammy's House comes from sentiment. It's also probable that he's working with the orphanage to recruit students."

Sayu blinked in rapid succession. She could easily see how Light had come to such a conclusion, but she had been unable to connect the dots herself. Annoyance prodded at her, more so at herself than her brother.

Apparently expecting the topic to fade out, Light picked up his book again and he returned to skimming the yellowing pages. But Sayu was never the type to let things go softly. "Does that mean you'll be considered to take over for L, too?"

Light stilled. Only someone who knew him would recognize how his knuckles whitened, fingertips suddenly digging into the book. "Possibly," he said reluctantly. He wouldn't look at her this time, she noticed. "But I would rather not."

Sayu frowned. "Why?!" She'd spoken louder than intended and they both winced, but she did not allow that to derail her. "Light, you're smarter than anyone here, and you always wanted to be a police officer like Dad was, isn't being the detective the same thing with less restrictions, and you look up to L so much, you should really--"

"Sayu," Light snapped. She fell silent, feeling like a reprimanded pet more than a little sister. "I don't want the position."

That should have shut her down. It really should have. "Why?" But it didn't.

He exhaled sharply, slamming his book shut. Dust particles flew out in all directions, and she gave a delicate cough while he remained indifferent. Per usual. "Take over for someone once they die or grow bored? Have to perfectly mold myself to fit their role, their manner of speaking and decision-making? Only choosing the most 'interesting' cases? It would be horrible. I care about justice for everyone, not justice for my boredom."

It was the most passionately Light had discussed anything for ages. For once, Sayu had no comeback, nor any other questions.

After a few tense seconds, Light relaxed, leaning back into the large chair. "Besides," he added, a trace of a smirk illuminating his features, "I'm much better than someone else's second best, anyway."

. . .

L scowled at the estate, blurring in the pattering rainfall, as if it had done something to personally offend him. It had done no such thing, of course. Wammy's House had been the closest thing he had ever had to a genuine home. But that did not mean he wanted to return simply because he had not accepted a case in a fortnight. Perhaps even world-famous detectives deserved a vacation, did they not?

Vacations rarely involved returning to childhood orphanages to observe potential future successors. In L's humble opinion, a true vacation involved an unlimited supply of black coffee with heaps of sugar cubes. And sweets. Preferably cake. Possibly a handful of strawberries or cherries per day. He was nothing if not health-conscious.

Watari had excused himself to take a persistently buzzing call on his mobile, leaving L alone outside of the orphanage. He supposed he could go inside, but he was unwilling to greet the inevitably screaming children quite yet. He was uncertain if the Tylenol had kicked in, and a headache was also not prime vacation material.

He noticed a subtle light flicker off in the orphanage's library. Intrigue abruptly pestered him, and he felt a slight draw to the building he had previously been intent on fleeing from.

"L." Watari's voice came from behind. If he had not grown accustomed to the older man's silent way of walking, he may have been surprised.

Instead L only gave a disinterested hum. "Yes, who was that? They certainly appeared inclined to speak with you."

"It was the Japanese Police Department." Watari sounded grim enough to finally catch L's interest. He turned, slouching against the gate of the orphanage as he blinked expectantly. "Apparently . . . there have been a slew of deaths across various incarceration cells. Most especially in the Kanto Region."

"And this is of interest to me . . . why?"

"You see, L," Watari said, and excitement prickled at L's skin, because it was so unlike Watari to use such a deadly calm tone unless there was a serious issue. Perhaps vacations were overrated, after all. "They all died of the same condition."

"Which condition may that be?" Stabbings and shootings were rarely referenced as a condition. L's features remained unreadable, but he would be lying to himself if he did not acknowledge the newfound excitement building in his chest.

"Heart attacks. Sixty-two prisoners, primarily in the Kanto region, none with underlying medical conditions -- all deceased from sudden heart attacks last night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, guys! i hope you enjoyed the first chapter. this is my first time really putting myself out here on ao3, so i am moderately nervous, but fingers crossed for the best. i really love lawlight, and i wanted to create a take on their dynamic that was not quite as dark as it is in some of the stories i've read, or even in canon. let me know what you think so far. keep safe and healthy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i'm updating again
> 
> in my defense, i wrote the first two chapters awhile ago and i am dying to receive a little feedback despite my nerves
> 
> also, l and light meet here... i'm sure that'll go well, right?

Light switched off the dim lamp in Wammy's library, rising from his self-made reading nook and peering out the window. It was nearly impossible to see anything with the raindrops leaking along the window pane, but if he squinted, he could almost distinguish a dark silhouette hovering out alone in the storm.

He frowned. Whoever that was, they must be stupid to linger out in such a storm for no apparent reason. He wondered if they were a student, but no; they seemed much too tall to be under eighteen. About as tall as Light, who towered over most of his peers, save for the strange man's deformed posture.

Taking a few steps closer to the window, Light's fingertips had barely grazed the glass when a familiar shriek pierced the silence. "Light! I'll race you to the dining hall!" came Sayu's perky voice.

With a sigh, Light stepped back from the window. It was absurd, anyway. Of course there was no one out there. Wammy's was practically invisible, and all others students and staff would be inside for preparation for meal time.

Maybe the inevitable had finally come and he was seeing things. He wouldn't be surprised. At least it wasn't a dull way to fade.

He followed Sayu into the dining area (or, more accurately, he followed the trail of dust Sayu had left behind as she raced while he walked at a respectable pace). She was already sitting next to Near, chatting excitedly to the small boy despite his presumable lack of interest. He fiddled with a toy blue car, rolling it along the table before abruptly crashing it into his water glass.

Huffing irritably, Light took the farthest seat from the pair across the table.

There weren't many students present. Significantly less than usual, he noted absently, tapping his fingers against his own glass. It was really only him, Sayu, Near, and a few girls only slightly younger than him. No sign of Mello which, while undeniably odd, was something of a relief. He'd never gotten along with anyone here, but it seemed like Mello was especially hostile lately.

It was pointless. Light had no interest in succeeding the "great detective" that never bothered to check in on his successors. Three and a half months here already, and Light had not heard nor seen any sign of L.

Near said something to Sayu under his breath, too muted for anyone else to catch. Normally, this would not bother Light, but he reconsidered as blatant shock flickered across his sister's features. "What?! Really?!" she yelped, seemingly unaware of Near's slight wince over her thunderous volume or lack of understanding towards the concept of whispering.

"Yes," Near said flatly.

Sayu's jaw dropped. She looked positively flabbergasted. It occurred to Light that perhaps he should inquire about what the dilemma was, but when she looked over at him with wide, hopeful eyes, his heart sank.

He had a feeling that he would not be able to avoid the renowned detective for much longer.

That, after all, would explain the otherwise inexplicable figure in the storm.

Light repressed a sigh. Exactly what he needed; some stranger poking and prodding at him like some orphan rat in a laboratory. Like he hadn't received enough of that from his former teachers throughout the years.

Sayu's enthusiasm would have been impossible for a less competent person to avoid. However, Light had already spent years craftily avoiding her mild insanity; he had learned a trick or two. He rose from his seat, brushing past his sister and escaping into the kitchen. Roger was already there, tossing a salad halfheartedly. For once, Roger was not alone, and Light stalled only a step into the room.

There was another man there. He used the term "man" loosely, because he had a certain air of childishness to him. His hair was jet black, his skin an unhealthy pallor, and he wore a loose-fitting, plain white sweater tossed over denim jeans. And no shoes. Light's eyes narrowed in immediate distaste.

Dread crept up his throat as he wondered if this could possibly be L. But, no. That was impossible. Such a famous detective would certainly act more socially behaved than this.

And wouldn't he wear shoes?

Light turned to Roger, the question obvious on his features, but the man interrupted their silent conversation. "Yagami Light. I want terribly to say that I have so been looking forward to speaking with you." He spoke in flawless Japanese, but his voice was a vacant monotone, devoid of any emotion except for perhaps a flicker of superiority. Light's disdain grew stronger.

The younger boy took a few steps forward, though he maintained a safe distance between himself and the stranger. He enjoyed the concept of personal space very much, especially with someone who looked like . . . that. "L, I presume." He didn't bother to conceal his doubt.

Roger looked between the two, briefly opening his mouth before clamping it shut. He must have sensed a lost cause. With one jerky shake of his head, he latched onto the salad bowl and left for the dining area. Neither remaining party spared him a second glance.

"Yes, that would be me."

Light narrowed his eyes. Possibly his entire youth had been a lie. Possibly there was something mentally flawed about him if he had ever "idolized," as Sayu would claim, the person before him. "You want to say?" he asked sharply. He'd never let things go easily.

L turned, regarding him blankly, though his uncomfortable slouch did not straighten. It was then that Light noticed the deadly dark circles beneath the detective's eyes -- which were such a dark gray that they were practically the same black as his tousled hair. "I do. But then, I have never been much of a liar."

"If you don't lie," Light said, thinking on his feet. He wanted to regain some sense of control in the conversation. "Then I suppose it would not be unfair for me to request your real name. For a proper introduction, of course. Especially as you are informed of mine."

It was noticeable, how quickly L tensed. His impassiveness faded, replaced with a scowl. "I would not advise pushing your luck, Yagami Light," he said coldly.

"L stands for your name, doesn't it? It's a fair guess, considering how Near is N and Mello is M. So, I wonder . . ." Light trailed off, furrowing his brows. "Lawrence? Leonardo? Lucas? Oh, please don't tell me it stands for Lincoln. I'll be so disappointed."

"I see I was correct about my initial assumption of you."

Light tilted his head. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face for too long. There was something dangerously thrilling about bickering with L. He may have been surrounded with little prodigies, but he had been starved of a true intellectual conversation. Even an argument felt like a blessing in disguise. "Dare I ask, or would that be going too far?"

"Your remarkable test results mean nothing. You are an infuriating specimen."

Perhaps he should have been offended. Rather, he found himself barely resisting the urge to laugh.

With a charming smile, Light nodded. "Yes. Well. I look forward to getting to know you, as well. L."

Despite his unreadable demeanor, Light thought he could detect a minor element of surprise to the detective. With a respectful bow, Light turned and returned to the dining area, where Sayu, he noticed, was patiently awaiting him. She leapt up from her chair, though she made no move to approach him, which he appreciated. Her excitement could prove a bit embarrassing on occasion.

"I stand by what I said," Light told Sayu, the familiar cadence of the Japanese language flowing with ease. He knew that, aside from L and possibly Near (who seemed to know at least the basics of each language), no one other than Sayu would understand him. "I hold no interest whatsoever in working for the detective L."

Despite the unblinking, catlike stare burning a hole in his back, Light excused himself from the table in favor of returning to the library. He did not spare another look towards the detective who had once inspired him.

. . .

L had understood frustration before. But somehow, the term "frustration" did not seem accurate enough for the effect that Light Yagami had upon him.

He had managed to pull off the dutiful role of the children's role model without breaking a sweat. It was always so simplistic; some of the orphans, such as Linda, doted on him to the point of mild revulsion. In fact, Mello, he supposed, could also be summarized that way. He seemed to enjoy boasting about how L was his mentor and how he was in the lead for the role of L's successor, despite Near being above him.

And then there was Near.

The smallest of the group, Near had been complicated from their first meeting. It was quite clear that he did not idolize L in any right. He seemed interested enough in pursuing the role of his successor, but less similar to the idol worship of Mello or Linda. If anything, he seemed to believe that he could be a better face of the renowned detective than L himself. Frankly, that caused the majority of L's intrigue in the boy. And his apprehension.

Regardless of Mello's troubling devotion of Near's lack thereof, they were in the lead for his successor. This was why it did not matter that Light Yagami's disdain and startling lack of manners (despite his charm, clearly a facade perfected long ago) unsettled him in alarming new ways. He was a fascination, really, something that L wished he could place upon a petri dish and thoroughly examine. But he was not an appropriate distraction. Not in the face of so many inexplicable murders.

For now, L planned to keep the case to himself. The NPA may have requested his aid, but that hardly meant he needed to return to Japan quite yet. Working remotely was an efficient option. Safer, as well.

A person, especially a person like L, had to be cautious about each move. He could not afford checkmate from the opposing side.

At least, not before uncovering what — or who — precisely the opposing side was.

L was nestled up on his bed, carefully crouched on his feet as he leaned precariously over his three laptops. He had requested Watari to bring them to him so he could begin gathering information. One laptop, placed in the middle, held a direct line to the Japanese task force. They had paged him with several updates already, including a thread of sudden heart attacks across China, South Korea, England, France, Germany, Canada, and the United States; a minimum of ten cases in each country since their last update only a day ago. There were over a hundred and fifty known deaths as of an hour ago . . . within two days.

He didn't quite understand why Chief Aizawa sounded so horrified. It was inevitable. The killer would want to draw attention away from himself by pursuing other countries. But how, exactly, was he doing it? Traveling to so many areas within a day was obviously impossible. Did he have allies or accomplices? And which method did they use to induce such a natural cause of death? A new form of lethal injection or poison? A pandemic created within a laboratory?

It was impossible to know so early.

Working with so many unknown variables was unnerving, but L persevered. He simply had to regard this as another case. One without anything unusual. Which meant he had to test the game's opposing participant. Soon.

There were three gentle knocks on his door. L tensed, the hand gripping the lollipop that had been making its way into his mouth pausing in thin air. He was more than half-tempted to ignore the visitor, willing to convince himself they'd chosen the wrong room, but then the knock sounded again, slightly louder, and L groaned childishly. He loathed unannounced company.

Yet he could not shake the slight thrill that came from the prospect that it may be Light Yagami.

"It's unlocked," he drawled.

The door creaked open, sounding ancient from so many years of disuse. Hovering in the doorway, seeming both impossibly small and tentative, was a young girl with long, dark brown hair and matching dark eyes. Her prominent Japanese features and the layers of various pastels she adorned were a stark contrast against the bland gray and white theme of L's childhood room. She watched him with a wide-eyed stare and did not speak.

L blinked. Well. Unless Light had undergone frankly impressive surgery within a brief period of time, this was not him.

Not that L had hoped otherwise. Of course not. The last thing he needed right now was an irritant.

When the young girl made no move to do anything other than stare, L resigned himself to the following awkwardness. Sighing quietly, he rose to his feet, offering her a polite bow of greeting. "Yagami Sayu. I have heard much about you." He slipped into Japanese effortlessly, hoping it would comfort the girl . . . and then encourage her to depart. "It is a pleasure."

Sayu's eyes widened further. He was impressed. He was not aware such a feat was possible. "Hello," she greeted, a nervous tremor to her dulcet tone. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Only moderately." Genuine fear crossed her expression. She was quite different from her familial counterpart. "May I help you with anything, Sayu-san?"

She opened her mouth. For a moment or two, she stayed there like a gaping fish. It was mildly unsettling. Then, she clamped her mouth shut. She nodded, though she did not further elaborate.

"Unfortunately, I currently lack the software to read minds. A great loss, really, if you ask me. It would make my line of work so much easier." L paused thoughtfully. "Then again, where is the excitement in easy?"

For the first time since she'd stepped into his room, Sayu appeared to relax. "You sound like my brother."

"What a horrible thing to say," L said flatly. She blinked rapidly, confusion flickering across her features. Not interested in the inevitable interrogation, L took a hesitant step towards her, the way one might approach a distrusting feral animal. It was the quiet ones you must always fear. "You must realize how uncommon it is to come to Wammy's House with a sibling."

Sayu nodded. "I've found that out." Her tone spoke of unspeakable horrors. He may have to talk to the children about their petulant habit of verbal abuse. At some point. "I didn't want to come here, you know. I insisted to my brother that he should come alone."

"Clearly your insistence was not particularly effective," mused L.

She narrowed her eyes. L noticed a flicker of natural defiance that paralleled Light Yagami's, and he repressed a smile. So they were not genetic opposites, after all. Interesting. "You'd be surprised at how persistent my brother can be."

"I don't doubt that." He spoke in the tone of a man who doubted that very much. "Now, let us return to your original point, shall we? What brings you to my humble abode?"

Sayu fidgeted. She seemed reproachful once again. "I overheard you talking to your . . . um, associate." L presumed this was Watari. He remained blank, but that only seemed to trouble her more. "I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear! I'm definitely not the eavesdropping type. But I was looking for my brother and you two weren't being particularly quiet, so naturally, I picked up on a thing. Or two. Three at most, I swear!"

Perhaps the feral animal description had not been an unjust comparison. "I am assuming you did not come to admit your overwhelming guilt for your nosy ways. This is hardly a confessional. Unless confessionals often have candy wrappers littered across the floor. I would not know."

She blinked, before shaking her head, more so to herself than him. "I heard you mention a mass murder investigation. Something along those lines. There's something serious going on, isn't there?"

For once, L said nothing.

She brightened, accepting this as a confirmation. "That's what I thought! I just wanted to suggest . . . maybe you should consider working with my brother. He's very intelligent, I'm sure his test results prove that. And he has past experience with detective work. He used to help out at the NPA all the time back in Japan. In fact, he solved almost a dozen cases for the Japanese police force."

"How fascinating. Sherlock Holmes in the flesh . . . in the form of an irritable young prodigy." Sayu faltered. L turned away from her, lifting his cup of tea and taking a long sip. He swallowed back a shudder. How he loathed when it went cold. "I have already encountered your dearest brother, Sayu-san, and I must admit, I was not impressed. You, of all people, should be unaware of his lack of interest in working for me. That is a two-sided distaste. Disdain. Distrust. Must I continue offering nouns filled with contempt?"

There was silent for an extended period of time. Though he'd heard no traces of departure, L nearly allowed himself the peaceful assumption that she had left. Her soft spoken voice echoed through the room, shattering the illusion. "Why do you slouch like that?"

"Really, Sayu-san. You cannot simply ask people why they slouch." He did not see the point in bothering with announcing his deductive reasoning. He highly doubted that would interest her. "Please do not continue to play Detective Matchmaker between your brother and myself. Roger may have accepted your presence here, but I have my own concerns. Do not force me to prioritize them."

The door slammed, causing the walls to tremble.

Down the hall, he heard the sounds of other door cracking open; certainly students investigating the cause of such an uncommon and loud interruption so late in the evening. Unless it was Mello and Matt accidentally blowing something up, such piercing noises were not often found at the quiet orphanage. In spite of himself, L cracked a small smile.

The Yagami siblings were proving to be a far more fascinating case than the unexplainable worldwide murders.

How fitting it would be if the two infatuations were somehow connected.

. . . .

When Light awoke the following morning, he resembled a crumpled sheet of paper better than a human being.

At some point in the evening, he had folded into himself as he curled up on the cold library floor. While the overstuffed chairs could grow uncomfortable over time, it was unlike him to settle for the floor, but he had been unwilling to leave the library and risk colliding with L. He would be lying to himself if he claimed he did not feel the slightest pang of embarrassment over his earlier behavior.

And thus, he had settled for sitting on the floor like some kind of ill-mannered child. Vaguely, he wondered if the detective would consider that a fitting comparison. Then wondered why he was wondering at all.

With a quiet yawn, Light pried his eyes open, blinking groggily. Within seconds, he had adjusted to the scene before him; it never took him more than a minute or two to fully wake up. There was dim early morning light filtering in through the windows, illuminating minuscule dust particles as they floated calmly throughout the room. The brightness, however, had not been the cause of his abrupt awakening; nor was his uncomfortable position.

Standing before him was a dark-haired man, with dark circles akin to black eyes, wearing a casual white sweater and jeans. Once again, there were no shoes or socks in sight.

Quickly, Light jerked to his feet, swaying slightly as his blood vessels rebelled against the sudden movement on an empty stomach. He was parched along with hungry, his throat dry and aching, though all of this was irrelevant considering his unwanted company. "Do you often watch people while they sleep?" Light snapped, his voice hoarse from disuse.

L's lips curled into a destabilizing smile. Light expected this was the sort of grin one might anticipate from lifelong asylum patients. "Rarely. Only when they are of interest or of use to me." 

Light's eyes narrowed. "Yes, well, I am not interested in being either, thank you. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to get away from you." So much for any lingering remorse over last night.

It was L's own fault. He shouldn't have been such a difficult person to behave kindly towards. In fact, Light was almost certain that was intention. How dysfunctional could a person be?

If anything, this only appeared to increase L's original incentive. He stepped in front of Light when he tried to head out, surprisingly graceful despite his awkward posture. "Where have you been all my life?" he murmured. There was the intrigue of a scientist observing a far-fetched new species in his odd, low voice.

The rhetorical inquiry only angered Light more. If he was aiming for flattery, it was ineffective. "Avoiding you," he said sharply.

"My, my. Quite hostile, aren't we?"

"I wonder why. Maybe, if you woke up to some creepy stranger staring at you while you slept, you would be a bit hostile, too. Especially if they refused to let you walk away from them."

"Au contraire." His French accent was flawless. And infuriating. "I believe I would feel thoroughly flattered. Especially if it was well-known that the person in question rarely takes an interest in anyone who is not a criminal mastermind."

Light stared at him blankly. This guy must be on something. That was the only plausible explanation. "I'll make sure to dot my I's with hearts when I sign the thank-you card. Now, if you would kindly move, I'd like to leave." To little surprise, L remained immobile. Light's impatience grew stronger. "Preferably now."

Still no movement. If Light had not already seen him move, he would have worried that the detective glued his feet to the floor. "Sayu-san was quite adamant that I reconsider my initial disdain towards you."

The thought of Sayu approaching L filled Light with a nameless horror. Out of his peripheral vision, he eyed the nearby window and weighted the pros and cons of leaping out. Glass could puncture his skin and fatally wound him, but really, would that be so much worse than this? He'd always preferred physical pain over a lack of control. If you were intelligent enough, it was possible to temper agony. "Was she?" he asked, sounding appropriately disinterested despite his rising panic.

This seemed to amuse L. It did not amuse Light. "Yes. She would not relent despite the impressive abundance of negative nouns I used to express my dislike of you. Admittedly, I admire her determination."

"That's nice. Maybe you two can become friends. You both have a startling lack of boundaries." And there was the lack of control. Light set his jaw, lifting his chin as he offered L a small nod. "Thank you for waking me. I had no idea that your presence meant having a built-in alarm clock. But I'm leaving now." This time, to Light's surprise (and perhaps . . . disappointment?) L allowed him to pass.

He had just made it to the door when L's empty monotone rang out once more. "Over one hundred and fifty deaths within two days. All died of natural causes. The same natural cause, in fact, with one more contributing factor: each victim was a criminal. What does this sound like to you?"

Light braced his hand against the door frame. He kept his back to L, mind turning over such unreasonable information. Was this some kind of test? It had to be. But why would he make a point of testing Light, of all people? "If I say something like, 'tasteless prison food,' will you allow me to get a cup of coffee?"

"I will continue asking until you answer."

Somehow Light didn't doubt that. He exhaled, fingers curling tighter around the frame. The room was no longer steady. Perhaps he should not have refused dinner in a fit of rebellion last night. He mulled over L's question, though there was no reason to, not really. Not when the answer was so glaringly obvious. "Homicide." A pause. "It sounds like homicide."

"Yes," L mused, hardly audible. "Yes, it does, doesn't it? Thank you for your cooperation."

Light frowned. He was tempted to coerce L into explaining himself, but he had the feeling that such a tactic would be ineffectual. Shaking his head, he brushed his hair out of his eyes before finally leaving the library.

Escape was futile. Accompanying footsteps kept pace with his quite well, and Light once again reconsidered the possibility of leaping from a window. He spun around on the heel of his foot, not bothering to mask his glare towards L. "I'm sorry, do you mind?"

"No," L asked, seeming quite tranquil. And amused, too. Bastard.

Light crossed his arms. He didn't bother to inquire about why L was presumably stalking him. He got the impression that he would not receive a straight answer even if he did. Instead, he decided to wait. Such a brilliant-minded detective could not actually be as patient as he liked to appear, could he?

Sure enough, L wavered. He tilted his head, pressing his thumb to his lower lip and nibbling slightly on his nail. "I'm afraid you're going to have to endure me a bit longer."

Light only stared, fighting down the nausea rising up his throat. As long as he remained impassive, he could hold at least a few of his cards close to his chest.

"I have decided to take Sayu-san up on her kind suggestion." Without waiting for him, L proceeded forward, bare feet silent against the hardwood floors. Light wondered if that was the reasoning behind his inappropriate lack of footwear: easier for sneaking around under the radar. 

His mind was whirring. One hundred and fifty deaths of the same natural cause, each victim with a similar backstory: criminality. It was impossible. And yet, the detective seemed convinced. Convinced enough to risk invoking a third party. An unknown variable where there was already a sea of those.

That was it.

This guy was stupid or something. He had to be. Nothing else made sense to Light.

Though perhaps what made the least sense of all was the way he followed after the detective. Without a single moment of hesitation.

Maybe Light was not quite as sane as he had convinced himself, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! as always, thank you for reading. just seeing that people are clicking onto this story makes me really happy. writing this story has already proven a great distraction from college and work, and i hope that it can distract you guys from your troubles for a little while, too. look out for yourselves, be kind to yourselves, and stay safe. c:


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey i changed the title, more info on that in the end notes
> 
> light and l aren't really the "dream team" yet but that's ok, they'll get there
> 
> (probably)
> 
> also, we meet a certain fiery blond successor in this chapter

L was disappointed to find that Light was a few steps behind. He had assumed that the teen's fascination with the mysterious string of deaths would encourage him to catch up to L as quickly as possible, but quite frankly, it seemed like his feet were dragging against the floor. Not exactly an encouraging sight. L had taken a risk by informing Light of the spread of criminal deaths, and he would appreciate it if Light would show a little more enthusiasm.

When L's impatience finally reached new levels, he stopped abruptly, spinning around on the heel of his foot. Light stumbled back, nearly running right into him. L tried not to appear smug. "You could, at the very least, state that your curiosity has been piqued."

Light raised a brow. After another beat of an uncomfortable staring contest, the younger boy sighed and crossed his arms.

His curiosity seemed nonexistent. 

It wasn't normal, this kind of detachment. L had just informed him that there was a worldwide massacre happening and frankly, considering the natural cause of death, it was going to be nearly impossible to track down who or what was behind it. And yet, Light seemed utterly disinterested, as if L had struck up a particularly droll conversation about the weather. It was unsettling. 

Finally, Light spoke. "Why am I supposed to care?" Annoyance tainted his voice, and his words echoed in the otherwise vacant hallway. "Criminals are dropping like flies. So what?"

L narrowed his eyes. "According to what I have heard about you, Yagami Light, you have maintained aspirations of becoming a detective from a young age."

"Yes. To imprison actual criminals. Not save their lives." 

That level of cynicism was far worse than Near's, or even L's own, which was an increasingly unsettling predicament. He opened his mouth, ready to announce Light's potential antisocial personality disorder, before his brain skipped back over to the strange emphasis in Light's words. L paused. "Actual criminals," he mused softly, voice hardly audible. It was a sharp contrast from Light's harsh snapping. "What could you ever mean by that?"

Light blanched. Just like that, all of the arrogance was wiped from his features, replaced with a blank slate. L rather liked that effect. "I-- what? Nothing. I didn't mean anything by it. Just that . . . criminals deserve to be punished. You, of all people, should agree with me."

"Perhaps. But there is a fine line between rightful punishment and playing god. Wouldn't you agree?"

Light's impatience had returned in full-force now that L was no longer interrogating his slip of the tongue. "I'm not going to cry just because a group of murderers and abusers and whatever else dropped dead. I don't care. The world is better off without people like that."

L hummed. Despite his growing unease, he couldn't dismiss his intrigue in what Light had said a moment before. "Actual criminals," he repeated, the two words sounded almost musical in his monotone. "Have you ever witnessed a wrongful imprisonment before, Yagami Light?"

The color drained from Light's face. He took a few rapid steps back, eyes narrowing into a nasty scowl. "Don't be stupid," he bit. "Why are you so stuck on that, anyway? I'm pretty sure you have bigger concerns. Like those criminals whose wasted lives are so important to you."

In many ways, this felt like a defining moment. Considering Light's harsh and immediate judgment passed onto complete strangers, it was necessary for L to reconsider his contemplation of working with Light. Of course Light had a brilliant mind, he had spent enough time studying Watari's files on the boy to be able to admit that much, but many children at the orphanage had brilliant minds without such inhumane beliefs and carelessness.

Inviting Light to join the investigation could prove hazardous. L did not believe these heart attacks were coincidental. Something -- or someone -- was surely causing them. And it was probable they were intentionally choosing criminals as their targets for some flawed pursuit of justice. If Light found himself sympathizing with the opposition, it could very likely endanger L's own life and the integrity of the case.

If trusting Yagami Light was a wrong move, it was quite possibly a death sentence. L should know better. In fact, he did know better. And yet--

"I believe," L said slowly, "you mean that we have bigger concerns." 

Without waiting for a response, L brushed past the younger boy -- who, for some, seemed to lack any sharp retort.

. . . 

L had spent the entire morning bombarding Light with increasingly unpredictable inquiries; little tests, he was certain, but for what? To prove his worthiness to assist with the investigation? L had been evasive about details after his first question, and as much as Light missed working on cases, he had no interest in working on a case where he was deemed unworthy of the most basic details. L would just have to handle it on his own.

It had taken him almost the whole day to escape the detective. And even this, he was sure, would prove to be temporary. The library was the first place L would search for Light. His most efficient tactic would be holing himself up in his room and locking the door, but he could never stand the stark, pale perfection for too long.

Besides, knowing his recent misfortune, L was capable of lock-picking. That would hardly come as a surprise.

The detective seemed to know everything.

Light could not dismiss his brilliance despite his enigmatic persona. L was clearly capable of living up to his prized title, despite his apparent inability to dress himself, or maintain good posture, or sit like he had not been raised inside of a tiny cardboard box. Not to mention his evasive and often confusing commentary and line of mental interrogation.

Or his obsession with sugar. Light shuddered. He had never seen anyone use half as many sugar cubes in their coffee as L had during breakfast. Surely he was the leading candidate for early onset diabetes.

But none of that mattered. Not now, anyway. Near was not hiding away in the library for once, and Light had finally managed to escape the infamous detective. He could breathe; sink into one of those overly comfortable chairs and at least try to lose himself in a moderately distractive book for an hour or two. It may grow boring, but at least he'd have some peace and quiet.

"Tea?"

So much for that.

Light shifted slightly in the chair, brows furrowing as he looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, there hovered L, hunched over in his unusual way of standing, as he gripped firmly onto two cups of tea. One was filled with so much cream that it was nearly white (not to mention the horrendous odor of excessive sugar), whereas the other was deep black, causing the artificial overhead lights to reflect eerily off the dark liquid.

It was asking too much for a calm evening. At this orphanage, "calm" was a foreign term. It had been that way even before L's presence, with Matt and Mello "accidentally" blowing up the chemistry lab every other day.

At least Light had never been particularly fond of peace. 

Peace meant stagnation. Chaos meant things were happening, changing, evolving. For better or for worse; it was still better than the alternative.

"I prefer coffee," Light said flatly. L didn't waver, stubbornly holding out the cup of tea. Light already knew L enough to realize he would most likely stand there until Light accepted the cup, regardless of whether it took several hours until the tea finally went cold, and so, with a deep sigh, his hands curled around the warm cup. He shifted back into his seat, no longer facing the detective as he blew on the hot liquid. 

"Would you care to discuss the logistics of the case some more? There have been updates." It almost sounded like L was genuinely curious. 

Which made no sense. Why would the genius detective, with such a renowned reputation that any and all doors swung open simply at his name, bother to request input from some random orphan? Light had no connection to L, no connection to the investigation. Surely there were other children at Wammy's House that L would feel more comfortable speaking to about such top-secret intel. Near, Mello, and Matt had been apart of L's life for years, according to what Light had heard. So why the insistence on involving Light, and only Light? 

It bothered him. He couldn't shake off the suspicion that it was pity. Or superficial intrigue in the only resident at the orphanage who had not grown up there -- aside from Sayu, but everyone knew she was only there because of Light.

"Have there?" Light drawled. His disinterest was an act. Mostly. He was curious about the case, just not for the same reasons that L seemed to be. It had nothing to do with morals or affection for human life. Like he said, he saw no reason to weep over dying criminals. 

But there was, occasionally, a difference between criminals and those convicted of crimes. Additionally, there was one convict he was honor bound to look out for. And if that meant determining who or what was causing all of these sudden heart attacks, then he would do it. 

Preferably without L's input, though.

There was a slight twitch in L's forehead. Light knew he was frustrating the detective, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Despite Sayu's ridiculous assumption that L had been his "childhood hero" or whatever, Light did not need him. He was perfectly capable of figuring this out on his own. 

Just as soon as he figured out how to hack into L and Watari's system.

"Yes," L answered tightly. He set his cup down on the small mahogany table between two chairs, before sinking into the seat opposite to Light. He sat in a crouching position, his knees nearly bumping into his chin, as his bare toes quivered against the leather of the chair. "Recent developments have suggested that the person or persons behind these attacks are attempting to disguise their true location by primarily targeting convicts imprisoned in South Korea today. Nearly fifty dead in the last twelve hours. I'd like to know your opinion on this."

Light raised a brow. Despite how distracting L's . . . relatively freakish sitting form was, it was easy enough to keep up with the conversation. "It's a little late for that. Shouldn't they realize they've already made it painfully obvious that they're in Japan?"

"Hm." L pressed his thumb to his lower lip, staring at Light with a scrutinizing expression. "It could be that they have an accomplice in South Korea. Possibly multiple accomplices. After all, it would be quite the task to kill from such a distance, wouldn't it?"

"I don't think so. It isn't like they're shooting the criminals in the head. No. They're dying of heart attacks. I doubt whoever is behind this ever comes close to them."

L's gaze flickered with interest. "Your word choice is fascinating."

Light waited, but L added nothing more. He sighed, leaning back into his chair and crossing one leg over the other. Unlike L, he knew how to sit properly. "What makes you say that?"

"Criminals. The criminals were not shot in the head. The criminals are dying of heart attacks." A pause. "Most would refer to the murdered as victims."

"And most would refer to you as strange and unnatural. Especially considering . . . that." Light gestured to L's deformed posture. The detective only raised one dark brow, seeming utterly unfazed. Light exhaled sharply. "Criminals. Victims. Whatever. They're dead. I don't see the point in obsessing over such pointless details."

L hummed before obnoxiously slurping at his cream-and-sugar-addled tea. Light winced. That was not a pleasant sound. "I beg to differ. Small details often are the most integral parts of any big picture."

"Thanks, fortune cookie. Are we done now?"

"I've never liked fortune cookies. Not quite sweet enough for my preferences, I suppose."

Light was going to have a heart attack from sheer impatience, no murder necessary. He set his jaw in a futile attempt to repress his fifteenth sigh of the hour. "Fascinating. I'll make sure to add that little fact into my future biography about you."

L tilted his head. The gesture was swift, surprisingly catlike. "Am I bothering you?"

For the first time in his life, Light Yagami was speechless. He stared, trying to compose a response that did not simply consist of incoherent screaming. Of course L was bothering him. Surely he'd made that obvious all along. "No, you're a delight. In my few moments of peace since you've arrived, I've only obsessed about the next chance I would have to talk to you."

L blinked. "As flattered as I am, I cannot say I reciprocate the sentiment."

There was no way that L was this dense. He was playing it up, trying to get under Light's skin. And it was working -- that was the infuriating part. Rarely could a person truly annoy Light, but somehow, L did so effortlessly. "Whatever."

"Tsk, tsk. They do say that petulance is quite common in psychologically damaged teenagers, but there's no need to prove those theorists correct." Light flushed crimson, annoyance rapidly shifting to rage, but L continued as if there was no issue whatsoever. "I'd like for you to do a bit of independent research into these killings. Come find me when you regard your results as sufficient." Without another word, L rose from his seat, slouched as ever as he exited the library with his ridiculously pale tea. 

There was no way in hell he would get away with bossing Light around like that. He had zero authority over Light. It wasn't like he was one of L's successors, for god's sake. He was just some stray orphan that Roger had decided to take in for whatever absurd reason. Nearly legal. No one had control over him. Especially not some socially challenged detective.

A solid two minutes passed before Light flew out of his seat, choosing instead to sink into one of the uncomfortable desk chairs seated before the high-functioning computers. 

His tea went cold.

. . . 

Light had never been prone to second-guessing himself, and yet, on the way to L's room, he found himself growing still in the middle of the hallway.

He chewed on the corner of his lip, gaze skimming over the papers he had printed out. It had taken a bit of digging into the darker recesses of the Internet, but it was a simple enough task for someone like Light. Despite the reluctance of the news channels to report on the mass homicides, it seemed like the killer had an impressive enough following already. Along with his own nickname. 

Kira. 

It made enough sense. "Kira" was the Japanese Romanization of the English word "killer." And it was catchy enough, like all serial killer titles must be. But that did not explain why Light felt such a tightening sensation in his throat, akin to a noose wrapped around his neck. His fingertips grazed the black ink, hardly dry. Kira.

"Hey, dumbass, you just gonna stand there all day?"

Mello's harsh voice dragged Light from his reverie fast enough. His stare snapped up, focusing on the blond, clad in varying leather garments, per usual. Mello was always a striking person to observe, though not in a particularly positive way. Frankly, the first time Light had met him, he'd mistaken Mello for a girl. Which was reasonable, considering the boy's delicate porcelain features and feminine bob.

"I see you've finally come out of your room." Mello had been hiding away since L's arrival, aside from one fleeting occasion where he'd snuck into the kitchens to steal chocolate. Light smiled with faux sweetness. "Have you felt shy since your celebrity crush has come to visit?"

Antagonizing Mello was never a bright idea. Sayu would have his head on a stick for this. 

Sure enough, Mello growled, jaw clenching. "Don't be such a dumbass," he barked. But despite his tough demeanor, there was a faint trace of pink in his cheeks. Light hid a smirk. "I haven't been hiding, anyway! Some of us actually do the work we're assigned!"

Light's sweet smile remained intact. "I'm fairly certain you realize that I do the work, as well. Hence the perfect scores. I just don't need five days to finish half of it like you do."

Mello's flush deepened, though now, he appeared more furious than embarrassed. "I actually study, dumbass. Not all of us bullshit through assignments like you do."

"I recommend expanding your insult vocabulary. It grows pretty exhausting to hear 'dumbass' every five seconds." Light faked a yawn. Mello's eye twitched, which was always a welcome sight. "And, though I feel absolutely no need to justify myself to a child, I do not 'bullshit' through assignments. They're too easy for me, that's all. No need to waste time studying when I'm eons ahead of all of you. Well." He paused. "You, especially."

The younger boy clenched his fists. "You're so fucking full of yourself. Jesus Christ. You must think you're some kind of god or something."

Inexplicably, that struck a nerve. Light narrowed his eyes, dropping his polite facade. He stepped closer to Mello, who suddenly seemed very aware of the height difference between them, judging from how his gaze flitted up and down Light. "I wouldn't say that I think of myself that way." He tilted his head. "L, maybe."

Mello whitened. It seemed like Light knew how to strike a cord, too. "What the hell are you talking about? You don't even fucking know L."

Light smiled. Not the fake smile he often put on to please others, from the residents at the orphanage to his own little sister. There was something much more malicious about this smile. Impressively enough, though, Mello stood his ground. Light raised the papers slightly. "What do you think these are for? I'm assisting L with his most recent investigation."

"You're a liar. A fucking liar."

"As always, your vocabulary never ceases to astound me. But, no. I'm not lying. Ask L yourself if you don't believe me. See if I care. Honestly, I'm uncertain if I understand your obsession with him. He's pretty abnormal if you ask me. But hey, maybe that's just your type--"

Mello yanked the papers from Light's hand, swiftly tearing them in half. Rectangular pieces fluttered to the floor, scattering between their feet, but Light had no reaction aside from the fractional widening of his smile. "Oh. Did I say something wrong?"

This was the moment. This was going to be, ah, approximately the fourth time that Mello had punched Light in the face. Tragic. 

While the kid wasn't the softest fighter, Light rarely minded. The lingering bruise rarely lasted longer than Mello's inevitable punishment -- after all, violence was strictly prohibited at the orphanage. He waited patiently, half-bracing himself for the familiar stinging sensation, when a door swung open further down the hall.

Mello faltered, distracted as he glanced over his shoulder. He paled when he noticed L hovering only a few feet away, observing the situation impassively. There was neither disapproval nor approval in the detective's expression, and yet Light got the distinctive impression that this was not going to work out well for himself or for Mello.

L drew closer to the reluctant pair, his thumb pressing hard into his lower lip. Light noticed that he did that fairly often. Another one of his unexplainable quirks, it seemed. "I've always preferred a battle of wits over a battle of punches. The latter is very dull, wouldn't you agree?" he asked, gaze landing on Light. 

Mello glowered. "It's not my fault! That dumbass antagonized me--"

Light hummed. "I suggest that someone purchases you a dictionary for Christmas this year."

The redness in Mello's cheeks made a stunning reappearance. Light was unsure why the simplest jibe got under Mello's skin so easily -- the boy's age? He was only fifteen, after all, but that was only two years younger than Light. Technically. Intelligence was clearly a different story.

Light didn't flinch as Mello raised his fist again, which seemed to further infuriate the boy -- but before he could actually take a swing, L caught his fist, sharply pushing it back to his side. It was the first time he'd directly acknowledged Mello since interrupting their . . . conversation. A flicker of frustration crossed L's pale features. "Roger is preparing dinner in the kitchens. I expect that you will enjoy a nice, long conversation with him about the rules. Again."

For once, Mello was silent. He watched L, suddenly seeming much more childlike than he had a moment ago. Without sparing Light another glance, the boy turned hotly on the heels of his leather boots, storming down the hall. Light heard the kitchen door crash open. He offered L a doubtful look. "Maybe you should introduce an anger management class for these kids."

"And you, Yagami Light, would surely be the prized student of such a class. Was it truly necessary to antagonize Mello? By now, you must be familiar with his short temper."

Light widened his eyes, thoroughly preparing for his infamous 'innocent act.' Roger had witnessed it plenty of times before, but somehow, he got the impression that L would not be as easy to fool. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just going over my research for our case."

"My case," L corrected. 

He pretended not to hear that. The damaged papers had been irrelevant -- Light had memorized what he planned to tell L already. It had mostly been his strange attraction to the "Kira" terminology that had inspired him to print it out. "Whoever or whatever is behind these killings already has a pretty loyal following online. All anonymous, of course, but I don't think that lessens their dedication. They've even come up with a name for him -- Kira."

"You assume the killer is male?"

"It's a reasonable assumption. Women are statistically less likely to become mass murderers." 

"Hmm."

Light frowned. He had anticipated a better reaction from L. Maybe some expression of gratitude, or at least a little interest in the killer's sudden following. "Don't you have anything to say about this? Kira. The fact that people are actually thanking Kira for doing 'god's work,' according to some of the comments. All of this was found on relatively incognito websites - it's unlikely that the NPA knows about this, isn't it?"

"I cannot say I am shocked that a mass murderer has gained a following. This is common enough in history. Charles Manson, for example, was a renowned cult leader whose family committed nine murders within two months."

Light wrinkled his nose in distaste. "So you think Kira is going to become some crazed cult leader?" Somehow, that sounded unreasonable to him.

L hummed lowly, brushing past Light. The thin white fabric of his sweater brushed against Light's arm, and the younger boy jerked away -- despite also wearing long sleeves, the contact, no matter how subtle, unsettled him immensely. "I thought I made it clear that you were meant to research relevant topics related to the case. Not unstable cult followers."

And just like that, Light's own temper went off. "It is relevant and you know it. If Kira has a following, it'll be easy for him to recruit willing accomplices, and if we're unaware of his power over these people, then we have no chance. You're just trying to get under my skin. Aren't you?" L didn't answer. "Well?"

"His power," L echoed. "That is some very high praise. Which I disagree with. Kira has no power - Kira is simply a childish person with a god complex." Suddenly, L's face lit up. It was an unnerving sight, and Light found himself taking a couple steps back. "Ah. Yes. Now I see what I need to do."

Light had the feeling that anything that made L look that excited couldn't possibly be good. He hesitated, but L was already moving fast, heading towards the stairway that led to the faculty's rooms. Light quickly followed, which he blamed on mere boredom rather than any actual curiosity about the detective' methods. Right. "Care to enlighten me, then?"

Upon reaching the top stair, L spun around, nearly knocking into Light, who had to latch onto the banister to prevent himself from slipping. 

"Tell me, Light-kun. How useful would you consider death row inmates?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, everyone! as ever, thank you for taking the time to read my story. it has recently come to my attention that there is actually another lawlight story titled "koi no yokan" here on ao3, which i had no idea about. however, to avoid any issues regarding my title, i have decided to rename this story. hence, you know, the title change and all that.
> 
> also, thanks for your comments on the last chapter! it makes me so happy to read what you guys think.
> 
> stay safe and healthy :)


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